The Crossroads Girl
by Utopiadoesntexist
Summary: Izabel Criston's family dies in a supernatural fire, and she leaves the scene with Sam and Dean. While struggling with her grief, Castiel tells Dean and Sam that she has demon blood inside of her, and that she is prophesied to be the one who destroys all demons, or who becomes the demon more powerful than God himself. This is her story. (Lots of hurt/comfort)
1. Chapter 1

"Izabel, please take out the recycling, be good to mother nature." Adrianna Criston said, not looking at her daughter, busy trying to slide a brush through a younger girl's hair.

"Ouch Momma! That hurts!" The little girl screeched, grabbing the brush out of her mother's hands.

"Hey keep it down! The game started." Devan Criston yelled from the living room, staring at the men in helmets bash each other around to get a hold of the ball.

"Sorry Daddy! Izzy, can you brush my hair for me? You are much gentler than Mommy." The little girl looked at me with baby blue eyes that no one, not even the devil, could resist.

"Sure thing Jessi, just let me run out to the garage to be 'good to mother nature'," I replied light heartedly, casting a smile at my little sister.

I ambled down the stairs to the garage, the cold cement freezing my bare feet. I shivered, and hurried to throw the bag of cans into a barrel so I could get back inside with my family.

All of a sudden, I heard Jessi scream. "Jessi!" I shouted, rushing up the stairs to door. I fiddled with the knob but it was bolted shut from the inside. I ran to the side door of the garage and was met by the fall of pure white snow. I didn't have a jacket, but I couldn't waste any time worrying about that.

I heard Jessi scream again. I ran for the front door, but it was locked as well. Running around to the side entrance of her house, I noticed the windows were filled with fire. But this fire wasn't normal. The flames licking walls of her house were pitch black, just like the night sky I was running underneath. I tried to kick down the side door, but it wouldn't budge. Even my muscular legs, strong from hours of dance class each week, could not bring the door down.

I did not give up. I rammed into the glass door with my shoulder, hearing something crack each time I ran against the door, but the door remained completely intact. It was my shoulder that had shattered.

"Jessi! Mom! Dad!" I shouted, continuing to kick the door, my efforts now in vain. The screaming had stopped, and now the black flames could be seen conquering the entire house.

There was a hand on my shoulder. I jumped, punching the 6'4" man in the face with my bad arm. Shit, that hurt.

"Jesus Christ!" The man shouted, cupping his face in his abnormally large hands. Another man approached, a little shorter, but still had a good eight inches on my 5'5" frame.

"We need to leave. Now!" He said, pulling me by my shattered shoulder. I whimpered in pain, and felt the need to roll my eyes at myself for the pitiful sound. God, I sounded like a little puppy.

"No! I'm not leaving, my family is in there, my little sister-" I faltered, knowing that there was no way any of them were alive. But I was not about to think about that now. There were two strong men to fight, and I was already injured.

"Leave me alone! I don't know what's going on, but I know sure as hell I'm not going with you." I swung with my uninjured arm, but the taller man easily dodged my swing and held me with my arms pinned down to my side, facing the other man.

"Listen to me," The shorter man said, "I know you don't know who we are, or what just happened, but I promise we can help. Now, either way you are coming with us, because your house is burning down and you don't have anywhere to go. So, you can come with us willingly, or we will take you kicking and screaming; your choice."

The taller man let go of me and I stood, sandwiched between the giants. "A little harsh, Dean," The tall one said, "Her entire family just-"

"Okay, fine, no need to talk like I'm not here. I'll go with you." After I had weighed my options, staying as uninjured a spossibke seemed like the best option, seeing as no matter what these guys were going to take me with them. "Now, where is your car?" I shivered, the cold air hitting my arms.

I was stupidly dressed in leggings and a tank top, not at all appropriate for the snow falling softly onto my head.

Dean, noticing my apparel, shrugged off his jacket and gave it to me. "Here," he said, "Sam's would fit like a moo-moo on you."

"Thanks," I said, laughing to myself of the stupidity of the situation. Here I was outside my house, which was burning black flames, and this guy just performed the most cliche act, except for the stretching to put your arm around the shoulder one. But it was cold, and I could feel my lips beginning to turn blue. So I threw on the worn leather jacket. Sam put a guiding hand on my back and I shrugged it off, refusing to become one of the weak little girls who fainted when anything unusual happened. I walked over to the car.

"An Impala '67?" I asked incredulously.

"Yeah, how'd you know?" Dean said, patted the car and looking at it as if they were true soulmates.

"Got a thing for cars." I replied. That was true. Cars were the only connection I shared with my dad. Even before I could walk, I was learning about cars, how to fix them, the classics, even how to drive. Technically, I could drive at the age of eight, but those pesky laws kept me waiting a whole lifetime for that license.

As I was about to hop into the back of the car, I looked down at my swollen cold feet. "Um, guys?" I said

"What is it?" Sam replied, concern on his face

"I don't have any shoes." At this, Dean cracked a smile, looking at Sam, who was turning red.

"What's so funny?" I asked them, trying to get my mind off of the past events.

"Oh nothing, it's just that you reminded me of something Sam said once." Dean snickered.

"Dean, shut up." Sam said, and we all got into the Impala and Dean drove off.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hope you like it! Please Read and Review!**

 **-xoxo**

The silence in the car gave me too much time to think about the events. _No, I will wait until I am alone, the people don't need to be bothered by me._

Finally, after what seemed like hours, Sam spoke up. "Not to be harsh, or anything, but your handling this pretty well." He stated, glancing back at me.

"Is that a problem?" I retorted, glad to have something to fight about, or at least, something else to think about.

"Well, it doesn't seem like your handling it at all actually." Sam said quietly, his eyes boring into my soul. I stopped, thinking about what he had said.

"You sound like my mom. She always used to-never mind" I stopped, not wanting to think about my family.

"What did she tell you?" Sam asked intently. God, he was just like Jessi- those little puppy dog eyes. No, I was not going to think about her.

"It doesn't matter, she wasn't right. She said that I never used to let myself experience any grief or sadness, and she said that I would never get over it if I never let it overwhelm me. But she's- she was wrong" I said this out loud. Who was this? I trusted way too much, and I knew this. I had to be careful and close myself off again.

"So, you just don't let yourself feel? That's pretty miserable." Dean turned back to me.

I scoffed "No, it makes me strong, I'm not the girl who's gonna break down because something went wrong in her life. I'll accept that it happened, and move on." If I could say this, I could believe it. At least until I was by myself and didn't have to worry about anyone thinking poorly of me, except, of course, for myself.

Sam's face wrinkled with concern. "Okay, that's fine if it was your goldfish that just died, but it was your entire family, your sister-"

"Yeah I know- I was there!" I interrupted, not wanting to think about Jessi.

"Fine! Wow, you remind me of Dean." Sam turned back to his brother, who rolled his eyes.

"I take it that's not a good thing." I smiled at Dean.

"Trust me, it's not." He replied, and I laughed. A sharp burst of pain went through my shoulder. _Damn_. It was probably broken in so many places and there was no way these guys would take me to a doctor.

"Hey, are you okay?" Sam asked, eyeing me with suspicion.

I really wasn't, and once I had recognized the pain, I felt like I was going to die. "Yep," I stammered, "Just- just peachy."

The boys exchanged worried glances and Sam continued to scrutinize my face, looking for any signs of pain. I thought I was doing a decent job hiding it, but then he turned to Dean and said, "How much further until the motel? She's about to pass out."

"I am not! You don't know-" I started, by my head began to spin from the pain. "Woah, yeah okay, how much further?" I said feebly. God, I hated this, I was so helpless, and there was nothing I could do to change that.

"Hang in there, I can see the exit." Dean replied, keeping his eyes on the road.

"Hey, what's your name?" Sam asked.

"Izabel Criston." I grimaced. The interior of the car was starting to spin. I tried to concentrate on one spot, but I could feel my mind starting to slip away. I tried to warn Sam and Dean, but my voice abandoned me and I slipped into an oblivion of pain.

"Izabel, hey, wake up," someone was gently shaking my shoulder. The bad one. I muffled a scream of agony and looked into Sam's apologetic eyes.

"Yeah, were gonna need to fix that for you." Dean pulled me by the other arm out of the Impala. I staggered for a moment, but caught by balance and walked to the rows of doors at the motel.

"Uh, Izabel?" Sam called, "It's the other way."

 _Right. Ugh, that was another stupid cliché._ I turned around, and with as much dignity as I possessed, I walked behind Sam and Dean, who were holding duffel bags and poking out of the side, was a gun. _Wait. That's not normal._ A little alarm went off in my head, telling me to run. But where? I had no money, no car, no shoes, for crying out loud.

But there was no way in hell I was going to go in the room with these gun-possessing men. I had been taught well enough, even if I did trust people too much. I stopped walking and waited for them to notice.

"What's wrong?" Sam asked, taking a step in my direction.

"No! Don't move any closer. Drop your bags. And the guns." I yelled as confidently as I could, but my voice still faltered.

They looked at each other with resigned expressions, dropped their bags, and put their hands up.

"So, was this your plan, huh? See a girl standing outside her burning house, which her family was in, and say to yourselves, 'She looks like she would be good to mess with!' Well I'm telling you, I have no-"

"Did you see the fire?" Sam asked his face free from emotion.

This put me off guard. I wasn't expecting that as a response

"What- yes, yes of course I saw the fire."

"What color was it?" Dean asked.

Why was this relevant? "It, it was black. But I don't understand-"

"Listen to us okay? We know this is crazy, and must be super hard for you to deal with, but that fire wasn't an accident." _What was he saying? That someone had something against my baby sister and parents, and decided to murder them?_ "This wasn't a normal fire, you could see that. We think it was a spirit, trapped inside your house."

Okay, I was so done. "A spirit? Are you joking? Maybe if you said some serial killer I would have believed you, but a ghost?" I laughed, forcing down the hysteria. These guys were crazy, and I was stuck with them at a crappy motel.

"Look, we know it's hard to believe, but we are hunters. Our job is to find spirits and kill them, like the one that was in your house."

Oh my god. I realized who these guys were. At first, I thought it was just pure coincidence; the names, the Impala. But now…

"You're the Winchesters! Well, I have to say, really nice touch with the Impala and even your personalities, but I hate to break it to you, those books are not real."

Sam and Dean looked at each other exasperatedly. Then looked back at me.

"I swear to God, I'm gonna kill Chuck," Dean muttered.

"Please, Izabel, just come with us, and we can explain everything." Sam looked pleadingly at me.

I knew this was a bad decision, but I had nowhere else to go, and I was severely injured. I nodded softly and followed them into the small motel room.

 ***Next chapter is fluffy, I promise.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Trigger: Attempt of suicide. Hope you enjoy this chapter! -xoxo**

The warm glow of the lamp on the bedside table greeted me as I walked, still barefoot, into the motel. I sat at the small table, gesturing to Sam and Dean to do the same. They complied, tossing their bags on the ground as they went. After sitting in silence for a minute, Sam began to speak.

He told me of his past, how his mom died, then his dad taught him and his older brother Dean how to hunt. He told me that he had demon blood in his veins, and that every once in a while, he would get premonitions of a supernatural death. He saw my family die in his head before it happened, which is why they showed up.

Dean stayed silent the entire time, monitoring my expression throughout Sam's tale. I don't know why, but I believed them. I knew something wasn't right about that fire, I mean, aside from the fact it was black. A presence, which is so cliché, surrounded my house, and I guess I was glad to know there was actually something wrong.

When Sam finished, I stayed silent for a minute, because I felt obliged to tell them my story, but didn't want to open up and let my entire penned up emotion spill out.

"My little sister, her name is-was Jessi. She loved rainbows, ponies, and motor bikes." Sam and Dean did a double take when I said that. "She had an obsession with all the different parts and pieces of the bike, and even though she was so little, always wanted to ride. My parents, of course, wouldn't let her ride a bike, but for her eleventh birthday, which is in two weeks, I reserved an entire dirt ramp, equipped with two motorbikes. One for Jessi, and one for me." I stopped, feeling my eyes begin to tear.

"But she's dead now, so I can't think about that." I finished quickly and stood up, walking to the separate bedroom and locking the door behind me. The tears I had been holding back spilled over, and I wept silently, a skill I had perfected over the years, so no one knew I was in pain.

"Izabel, please open the door." I heard Dean say softly.

"No, I don't want to." I was able to stop the crying just like that, another skill for any time someone walked in on me, they would never know.

"Why not?" Dean asked. I knew he wasn't going to give up.

"I'm-I'm going to take a shower." Was there even a shower in here? God, I hope he didn't know. I really just wanted to get back to my private sob session with myself, just to get it over with.

"Ok, now I know you're lying, there is no bathroom in there." Oh shit, he knew.

"Just leave me-Hey!" Dean kicked the door in, just like on of those FBI agents. He had no right! But his face wasn't angry; it was sympathetic. He was going to try and get me to talk more.

"Sorry, but you need to talk to someone about this." Dean sat on the bed, patting the space next to him. I remained standing.

"No, I can deal with it on my own. I'm 17, I can take care of myself." I could take care of myself, probably. I mean, I had never been away from my parents for more than a week, but how hard could it be?

"Believe me, I thought the same thing, I know." Oh God, he was trying to relate to me. He shifted uncomfortably on the bed, and I could see this was just as awkward for him as it was for me.

"So leave me alone." I turned away from him, expecting him to leave, but he didn't. _Oh shit._ Those damn tears betrayed my years of hard work to hide them. I stayed facing away from him so he couldn't see.

"You see, you and I, we have the same personality. We tell people we're fine, so they go along with their business, and then grieve alone when we are by ourselves." Dean continued talking to my back.

"You don't know me at all." I refused to let anyone see me wounded, physically or mentally.

"Maybe you're right. But I know myself. And when my dad died, I held it all in and it got worse and worse each day to think about. And I know what you are going through is so much more than what I had, which is why you need to talk to someone, or let yourself feel it. Otherwise, the pain will eat you from the inside out." He was so right, and I knew it. This grief was going to kill me if I didn't share it with anyone else.

"I can't-I can't do that right now, maybe later." My voice faltered, the first sign of my submission to sadness.

"But, that's the point! The longer you hold off, the more pain you have to feel." Dean remained seated, but his voice grew louder, as if he was trying to get me to hear something I could never bear to listen to.

I turned around, ignoring the tears running down my face. "You don't get it! I have no one! My mom died, my dad as well, and I know you get how that feels, but I lost my little sister. She was 10 years old, and I couldn't do anything to save her. You have Sam right? He's your younger brother. You had him to rely on when your parents died, you had a responsibility towards him to protect him and you did it. I literally have no one now." There was no going back to a stone cold front, I was ruined. "So yeah, sorry your parents died, but at least you have someone to turn to. You had that option. Me? I have no one."

I stayed standing and Dean stood up, stepping closer towards me, but I turned away. I had exposed myself enough; I didn't need to go crying on someone's shoulder. Dean recognized my wish for isolation, and left the bed room., quietly closing the door behind him, leaving me with my thoughts. I looked toward the bed, my vision blurry from the never-ending tears I couldn't hold back.

Dean had left his keys. I strode over to them and took them into my good hand. I could escape. There was a window and we were on the first floor. But I had to act quickly. I opened the window with my good arm, cradling the throbbing one to my chest. I quickly made my way to the Impala, my bare feet now immune to the cold.

Jumping into the driver's seat, I flew the keys into the ignition and backed out of the motel parking lot. I sped down the road, wondering where to go. I had no extended family, both my parents were only siblings and their parents were dead. I didn't have any good friends to go to.

I just didn't want to deal with this. No one would benefit from my grief, in fact, it would just bring everyone down. Looking to my right, I saw a bridge over a rocky river. I pulled up to the middle and stepped onto the cool cement. This was it. I could be free of this, forever.


End file.
